


With Every Mistake, We Must Surely Be Learning

by justyrae



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Rugby, Closeted Character, Coming Out, First Kiss, Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyrae/pseuds/justyrae
Summary: Harry just wants to get through his last year with as little interaction with the rugby team as possible. Little does he know that his new rugby-playing roommate is about to change everything. (A Handsome Devil AU)





	With Every Mistake, We Must Surely Be Learning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetmog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY WONDERFUL FRIEND!
> 
> You introduced me to a magical film called _Handsome Devil_ and because I'm me I just had to come up with a 1d fic. I hope you enjoy your third annual birthday fic <3<3
> 
> (big thanks to A and Jamila for their excellent beta skills!)

It's hard to tell yourself that things are going to be better when there's no indication of it. The facts remain the same no matter how many times Harry tries to switch them around. He still has to go back to the school he hates and pretend like he cares about the rugby team.

He used to like rugby alright until he was sent off to a school that doesn't care about anything _except_ rugby. Now Harry doesn't want anything to do with rugby.

The one positive note he discovers upon his return at the start of his final year is that he's got a room all to himself. It's a relief, to say the least, if only for a few seconds. Not long after he starts making his way to his new room assignment does he get waylaid by several of his fellow classmates, all of whom are on the rugby team.

Harry manages to escape physically unscathed, but mentally is an entirely different story.

His room is one of two safe spaces on the whole of the campus, but it only goes so far. There's no lock on the door to keep anyone out, and nothing is stopping his classmates from coming in and messing with his stuff or worse, messing with Harry himself. But at least he can make the room his own. Harry can play whatever music he likes any time he likes because he doesn't have to worry about a roommate telling him to shut up.

He can put up photos of his mum and sister without being asked any number of horribly invasive and disgusting questions a thousand times a day. He can put up posters of his favorite male musicians without being called derogatory and homophobic names.

Nobody knows he's gay. He gets called gay a hundred times a day, but nobody _actually_ knows.

Harry wants to keep it that way. He just has another year to get through and then he never has to see any of these people ever again.

He goes to sleep that first night hoping that this year will be easier than the last, or at least that he still has enough strength within him to get through it. He thanks his lucky stars for the small bit of sanctuary he gets with his half-empty room. But when he wakes up the following morning, there's a note that's been slipped under the door.

When he sees it, his first instinct is to leave it there. It's probably just a note from one of the school's many bullies, trying to get a rise out of him before the school day even begins. But when Harry looks closer, he sees the school insignia on the envelope and then he knows it's important.

Any hope that Harry had for an easy year vanishes the moment he reads the letter. A new student is coming today. He's going to be Harry's new roommate.

*

Louis doesn't want to play rugby anymore. He wants a fresh start after the absolute disaster at his old school, and he can't help but think rugby would cause all the same problems it did before. But he's good at it. He's always been good at it. And the new school administration knows it.

It's probably the only reason why they've agreed to let him enroll after everything that happened at the end of last year. So Louis doesn't have a choice. He has to play rugby.

Five minutes into his meeting with the headmaster, Louis knows that this school is just like his last. Rugby is everything; if you don't love it, you're ostracized. So there's no hope of keeping his head down and trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He'll soon be inundated with automatic "friends" who will probably make Louis' life a living hell without even knowing.

Louis dreads going to the dormitory the most. His new roommate will probably be a meathead rugby player who won't want to talk about anything _but_ rugby. It's likely that there won't be anywhere for Louis to get even a moment of peace.

Classes are already over for the day by the time Louis is finished filling out all of the necessary transfer paperwork and is given his schedule along with a map of the school grounds. Students are milling about the dormitory when Louis arrives, but he keeps his head down and goes straight up to his room.

There's a moment just after he opens the door that he thinks to himself, _maybe this won't be so bad after all_. His roommate is sitting on his own bed with a pair of headphones over his ears, not having heard the door open. It gives Louis a few seconds to look around at the room. There's already posters and pictures up on all four walls and Louis starts to get a feel for the kind of boy he's going to be sharing space with for the next several months. It's clear he's not who Louis was expecting; a small bit of relief washes over Louis and his shoulders relax.

But then the boy looks up, his face accusatory and closed off. Louis barely has the chance to say hello before he's getting up and pushing his way past Louis and through the door.

"Okay," Louis mumbles as he steps further into the room and deposits his bags onto his bed. He sits down, bouncing a little as he tests out the mattress.

Any shred of relief he'd felt a minute ago disappeared the moment his roommate looked at him. It might've been better if he'd been roomed with a fellow rugby player after all.

He can hear shouting outside through the window, but he doesn't get up to see where it's coming from. Rugby practice starts soon and he still has to look up the way to get from the dormitory to the pitch.

"This is great," Louis says as he reclines onto the bare mattress and stares up at the ceiling.

He's been at this school less than a day and already it's shaping up to be even worse than last year.

*

Harry goes straight to the headmaster. He's not supposed to have a roommate so why is there some new kid in his room with bags? There has to be some sort of mistake.

"No mistake," the headmaster tells him. "I would've thought you'd be welcoming to a new student, Harry."

"Sir, I--"

"I suggest you turn around and go back. Give the lad a chance."

"But _sir_ \--"

"You're dismissed."

Harry swallows his protest and the chair he was sitting in scrapes against the floor when he shoves it back. He should've known that the administration wouldn't give a shit about his complaints. He's not on the rugby team, he might as well be nobody at all.

He doesn't go back to his room. He takes a walk all around campus, avoiding going anywhere near the rugby pitch. Still he encounters classmates who take the opportunity to harass him. They jeer as he passes by, calling him names that make Harry even angrier. It's not fair that he has to endure all of this just to go to school. It's not fair that all of the adults look the other way when non-rugby playing students get harrassed.

There's only one spot on the whole of campus where Harry can really get some peace and quiet. He thought he'd get a second spot with his room this year, but now it's back to just this one. It's more like a basement than anything else, and most of the other students either don't know it exists or are too busy playing rugby to even care about its existence.

But to Harry, it's everything.

He assumes it was set up either by previous students or teachers, or perhaps a blend of the two. There are a couple ratty couches and an old record player, but the real gem of the place is the collection of vinyl. It's got tons of records that Harry had never even heard of but now knows by heart.

He settles in after picking a few to play in succession, taking a spot on the couch nearest the record player. Harry closes his eyes, listens to the music, and tries not to think about how nice it would be if he had a friend to share this with.

It's close to curfew when Harry finally returns to his room, and he's met with a terrible sight. His new roommate is there and sure enough, he's joined by several members of the rugby team. One of them is standing on his roommate's bed examining one of the posters Harry put up the night before, and the moment he sees Harry he does three things in succession: he smirks at Harry, takes down the poster, and then rips it in half.

Harry lunges forward as the lad jumps down from the bed to meet him, still smirking. An air of _what are you going to do about it_ is all around them and as upset as Harry is, he knows he'll never win a fight of five against one.

"That's what I thought," he sneers, turning back to Harry's roommate. "You ought to ask for a new room, y'know. There's no telling what this one might get up to in the middle of the night."

Harry looks at his roommate, hoping maybe for a second he might tell his new teammate to piss off. But he doesn't know Harry and Harry doesn't know him - he doesn't even know his _name_ \- so what reason does he have to come to his defense?

He looks away. And he follows his teammates when they leave the room.

Harry kicks the door closed behind them, leaving the ripped poster on the floor as he goes over and sits down on his bed. He brings his knees up to his chest and takes several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.

It's not easy to do. As far as Harry's concerned, nothing is ever going to change for the better.

*

It's hard being the new student; Louis knew this before he became one. But he can't help but imagine that it's even harder being the new _teacher_ at a school. Especially at a school where masculinity is fragile at best and everything has to be about rugby or else you're as good as dead.

Louis learns quickly that things here run about the same as they did at his old school. Teachers look the other way for the rugby team, letting them get away with practically everything as long as the team had a chance at the finals. Louis isn't the greatest of students but he gets by just fine on his own, therefore he's never really needed any of his teachers to help him along. But they still offer, they still grade him easier on his less than stellar work when students who aren't on the team work twice as hard for the same grade.

It's stupid and unfair, but nobody ever does anything about it. Louis is at fault for it too, because he sees it happening and doesn't speak up. He's never even heard of anyone trying, and he's scared. It didn't matter as much at his last school, but things are different here. He doesn't want history to repeat itself.

But for the first time, he meets a teacher who doesn't follow those rules. He's loud and brash and certainly doesn't waste time before getting to whatever point he's trying to make. He sets the rules and expects the students to follow, and if you don't then he has no qualms about kicking you straight out of class, rugby player or not.

Louis likes Mr. Grimshaw immediately. _Finally_ , someone who gets it.

He can see why his fellow teammates might not like him, and even the other students who are as obsessed with rugby as the rest of the administration. But his class quickly becomes Louis' favorite, and he wonders if it's Harry's too. Despite knowing very, very little about his new roommate, he can't help but think that he and Mr. Grimshaw might be kindred spirits when it comes to their opinions of the school. Maybe this could help Louis in finding a way to get Harry to open up to him. Louis wants to make up for his teammates' behavior the other night, but he hasn't quite figured out how yet.

Harry certainly isn't making it easy. They've still never spoken directly to each other. It's been almost a full week since classes started, and any time spent in their room together is absolutely silent. Not for lack of trying on Louis' part, but only to the extent of _almost_ speaking up. It certainly doesn't help that Harry's got headphones on most of the time, or that when he does actually look at Louis, the look on his face is so filled with disgust that Louis loses his nerve immediately.

Louis knows that the incident with his teammates didn't help Harry's attitude towards him, but it doesn't explain the animosity when Louis first came into the room. From minute one, Harry seemed to hate Louis for no particular reason, and that's never happened to Louis before. Usually if someone doesn't like him then he's done something to evoke that sort of hatred. But with Harry it was just there, and Louis can't seem to do anything about it.

He knows that his playing rugby definitely doesn't help either. He didn't have to spend more than five minutes with Harry to know how he feels about rugby. But if he could just get Harry to talk to him, to get him to see that Louis' life doesn't completely revolve around rugby, then maybe things would be different. Maybe they could be better.

Obviously, Louis has to be the one to do something first. He has to be the one to break the cycle. And if he does it on the rugby pitch, then maybe he can get away with it. Maybe he can teach the lesson that everyone at this school seems to need the most.

Lucky for Louis, the fact that rugby is a violent sport on its own definitely makes it easy. Half an hour into practice he finds the perfect window to take out the arsehole who ripped Harry's poster in two, and he takes it without a second thought.

He breaks the guy's nose in the midst of a scuffle, and Louis makes sure he knows it was no accident.

The coach doesn't even care. He congratulates Louis on his initiative and tells the other guy to suck it up. Which is terrible in its own way and is an awful reflection of the atmosphere that this school perpetuates, but Louis isn't trying to change it for the sake of that dickhead.

Even though when he arrived at the school he had no desire to play rugby ever again, Louis feels differently now. He's always liked rugby. He's good at it. When he's on the pitch he doesn't have to think about anything but the game, and that's a relief. Nobody at this school knows what happened at his old school, and he wants to keep it that way. If he helps them win the finals, it could actually stay that way.

It just… it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a real friend. Someone whose whole world doesn't revolve around rugby, because Louis' definitely doesn't. He just has to get Harry to see that.

*

Harry's messing around with his guitar when it happens. He hears shouting in the dormitory hallway and he carefully puts down his guitar and tries to listen closely. He can't quite make out who's out there so he climbs off of his bed and goes over to his door, opening it so he can poke his head out and see what's going on.

He ends up opening his door further and stepping halfway out into the corridor to see Mr. Grimshaw arguing with the headmaster a few doors down. There's another student standing between them, and while Harry doesn't know his name he knows they've got something in common - neither of them play rugby.

From what Harry can gather, the headmaster is attempting to punish the student while Mr. Grimshaw is standing up for him. He wishes he knew the whole story but he's rightfully hesitant to get involved. Harry keeps to his doorway, watching as the headmaster tells the student to go to their room and Mr. Grimshaw to go back to the staff dormitory before he sets off down the corridor, heading away from Harry.

"You can't punish a student for something that wasn't his fault!" Mr. Grimshaw yells, but it's to no avail. The headmaster's already gone through the set of doors at the end of the hall and disappeared out of sight.

Mr. Grimshaw murmurs something to the student, urging him to go into his room. After he's gone, Mr. Grimshaw sighs heavily and turns towards Harry. His eyes widen when he realizes they'd had an audience, and surprisingly Harry doesn't move a muscle.

"What was that about?" he asks as Mr. Grimshaw comes closer.

"Just a bit of a disagreement," Mr. Grimshaw says, waving his hand in a dismissing manner. "Our headmaster seems to think bins fill themselves with students, or perhaps that students think that bins are the new fun place to hang out."

He shrugs and his eyes wander into Harry and Louis' room. He stares at the barricade Harry built in the center of the room, marking the split between his side and Louis'. He gives Harry a perplexed look but Harry stands his ground.

"What's all this?" Mr. Grimshaw asks, gesturing to the chests of drawers. There's a sign tacked up at the front, reading "Harry" with an arrow pointing to his side of the room, and "Rugby" with an arrow pointing in the opposite direction.

"It's necessary," Harry answers plainly.

"Is it?" Mr. Grimshaw clicks his tongue. "Bit literal, innit?"

"How d'you mean?"

"You…" he chuckles, shaking his head. "You built a wall."

"Yeah?"

"Are you keeping him out or yourself in?"

Harry shrugs. "It's better this way."

"What makes you say that?"

"Like you don't know," Harry mutters, heading back into the room and leaving Mr. Grimshaw standing in the doorway. He sits down on his bed and picks his guitar up, going back to strumming his guitar strings, playing the one and only note he knows.

"You play?" Mr. Grimshaw asks, leaning against the doorway but not crossing the threshold into the room.

"A little," Harry replies. He's feeling self-conscious now but can't quite figure out a way to politely tell a teacher to fuck off.

"Play me something, then."

"I don't really--"

"C'mon, it'll be good practice." Mr. Grimshaw gestures. "Let's have it."

Harry takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before he sets his fingers on the frets and strums. He waits a second and then does it again, peeking up at Mr. Grimshaw as he continues to just play the one chord.

"That's a good one," he says, chuckling again. "Know any others?"

"No," Harry answers regretfully.

"Alright." Mr. Grimshaw clears his throat. He tells Harry to move his fingers to different frets, correcting when Harry's fingers slip. "Strum again."

Harry looks up after he does, and Mr. Grimshaw raises his eyebrows.

"Now you know two."

He leaves shortly after, closing the door behind him. Harry practices the new chord for a little while and it brings a smile to his face. He makes a mental note to thank Mr. Grimshaw after their next class, and maybe he'll ask if he knows any other chords. He's made up a silly little melody by the time Louis comes back from rugby practice, but his smile disappears as he quickly moves to put his guitar away when Louis enters the room.

"You don't have to," Louis says.

Harry pauses for a moment. It's the first time Louis has spoken directly to him and for a few seconds he's not sure what to do.

"I used to have a guitar," he continues. "I could teach you, if you like."

"No," Harry says immediately, and goes about putting his guitar away. He slides the case back under his bed and grabs his headphones from his desk, intending to put them on and ignore Louis for the remainder of the night.

"No you don't want to, or no to talking at all?" Louis asks. Harry pauses again.

"Just no."

"Why?" Louis huffs a sigh. "I like music too, y'know. Not everything's about rugby."

Harry scoffs. "Yeah, right."

"C'mon, I--"

"Look," Harry interrupts. "It'll be best for both of us if you just… stop."

He avoids looking Louis in the eye. It's one thing to hate someone you don't know on principle, but it's quite another to tell someone they shouldn't even try to be your friend. Harry could use a friend, and he knows that, but he can't start making friends with rugby players. He just can't.

"Trust me," he says with a sigh as he slides his headphones on over his ears and settles down on his bed, slipping out of Louis' view. "You don't want to be my friend."

Harry rolls onto his side and faces the wall as he turns his music on. It's loud enough in his headphones that he can't tell if Louis says anything more, though he doesn't expect him to. He's made it clear that this is how it has to be, and it'll be better for both of them if Louis realizes that sooner rather than later. Harry thought he knew it well enough already, but he'd apparently been wrong.

Nobody at this school has ever wanted to be his friend. He doesn't see why Louis would want to be the first.

*

The news of what Louis did during rugby practice the night before travels around the school like wildfire the next day. He half expects to be brought to the headmaster's office for punishment, but it never happens. He'd been told specifically not to engage in fighting since that was what got him kicked out of his last school, but apparently that only extends to fighting outside of the rugby pitch.

Louis doesn't expect Harry to hear about it, let alone say anything about it. He might've done it for him, but Louis certainly isn't going to be the one to tell him. After Harry made it quite clear that he doesn't want to be Louis' friend there doesn't seem to be any reason at all for Louis to tell him anything ever again.

He tries not to let that get to him, but he can't help when he thinks about how nice it would've been to have a non-rugby friend at this school. Especially when the first match of the quarter finals is coming up and soon there will be hardly anything to talk about with his fellow classmates other than rugby.

When he returns to the dormitory that night after rugby practice, Harry actually takes off his headphones. Louis pauses in the doorway, staring at Harry as he stares back at Louis, but after a few seconds of nothing Louis thinks maybe it was just a fluke. He starts walking towards his side of the room but pauses again when the springs of Harry's bed squeak, and he looks over his shoulder to see that Harry's gotten to his feet and is actually crossing the barricade.

"Hey," he says, awkwardly shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

"Hey," Louis echoes. He's curious to see where this is going, especially considering he was fairly certain that after their conversation the night before Harry was never going to willingly speak to him again.

"I heard…" Harry says, gesturing somewhat uselessly towards the door. "Y'know, about what you did."

"You did?" Louis asks honestly.

"Rumors get around even to me," Harry replies with a rueful laugh. "Did you really break his nose?"

Louis chuckles. "Yeah, guess I did." He shrugs. "He had it coming."

"Totally," Harry says. He offers a sort of half-smile to Louis, and a small feeling of hope blooms in Louis' chest. Maybe there's a chance of them being friends after all.

That feeling gets a bit smaller when another few minutes of total silence go by, neither one seeming to know what to say to the other. Louis doesn't want to move in case it scares Harry off, or makes him think that Louis doesn't want to keep up the conversation. So instead he stays still, watching Harry for any sort of sign while also making it look like he's not staring.

It's a really thin line he's drawn for himself and it's nearly impossible to keep up for longer than a few minutes.

"What were you listening to?" he asks, for lack of anything better.

Harry raises an eyebrow and Louis laughs awkwardly.

"Nevermind," he says quickly, "you don't have to--"

"Why'd you do it?" Harry asks, turning the conversation back around.

"He deserved it," Louis says. "He was a dick to you."

"You don't even know me."

"So? Doesn't give him the right to be a dick."

"I thought you rugby lads stuck together."

Louis laughs. "On the pitch, maybe. I definitely don't want to be friends with that arsehole."

"Are you saying you want to be my friend?"

"I dunno." Louis shrugs. "Maybe, if you'd give me the chance."

"You don't wanna be my friend."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Louis asks with a heavy sigh. "I don't understand why--"

"Why would you?" Harry interrupts. It's a serious question, Louis knows it. He may not be expecting a real answer but there's something in the look on his face that leads Louis to believe he honestly doesn't know the answer.

"Why shouldn't I? We've got just as much of a chance to be friends as anyone else in this place."

"Alright," Harry answers. Louis waits for a moment, wondering if Harry's going to say something else. But he doesn't.

Harry goes back to his side of the room and puts his headphones back on. The room is silent for the rest of the night. Louis doesn't know what to make of it, especially when Harry continues not speaking to him for another day and a half.

But then, two nights later when Louis returns from rugby practice, Harry speaks to him.

"I want to show you something."

"Alright," Louis replies haltingly, expecting it to be something already in the room.

It's not. Harry leads him out of the dormitory entirely, across the campus and to what appears to be a basement door. Louis hesitates when Harry opens the door, because this could all be some sort of terrible ruse. What if Louis goes in first and Harry locks the door, trapping him inside? What if it's some weird torture chamber and Harry's a murderer?

Louis pushes those and any other thoughts out of his head, telling himself he's being an idiot, and follows Harry inside. As soon as he sees what Harry wanted to show him, he's glad he did.

"What is this place?" he asks as he looks around with wonder.

"I'm not really sure," Harry admits as he sits down on one of the couches. "I think it used to be a common room sort of thing, but nobody really comes here except for me."

"It's sick," Louis says as he goes over to the vinyl collection and starts thumbing through it. There's a bunch of records by artists he knows, and even more by ones he doesn't. He looks over at Harry and nods his heads towards the collection. "Where should we start?"

Harry smiles, a real one this time, and gets up from the couch. Louis gladly steps aside to give him room to pick through the records, and the small feeling of hope he had before grows even bigger.

This feels like a step in the right direction. Maybe they will be friends after all.

Time passes so quickly as they sit on the ratty couches and listen to a dozen different albums that they forget about curfew entirely. It only occurs to them when the door suddenly opens and they hear someone coming down the stairs. Harry checks the time and curses under his breath while Louis immediately sits up straight and hugs the end of the couch like it'll protect him from whatever punishment may be coming.

Both of them relax a little when they see it's Mr. Grimshaw who's come to find them, but neither are convinced they won't be in trouble. He raises his eyebrows when he sees them together, staring a bit longer at Harry than at Louis.

"We were just about to leave," Louis says, thinking if he takes the bulk of the blame then maybe they'll get away with it. Leniency towards rugby players could come in handy right about now.

"Before the song's even over?" Mr. Grimshaw asks as he gestures to the turntable. "What a waste."

"You--"

"Yes, Mr. Styles, I know this music." Mr. Grimshaw laughs. "Odd as that may seem to you, but adults can like the same things you do." He grins broadly as he looks back and forth between the two of them. "As can _rugby players_."

Louis looks at Harry who looks down at his feet, his cheeks pinking up.

"Have you two given any thought to the talent show at our sister school?" Mr. Grimshaw asks as he goes for something in his back pocket.

Before Louis can even open his mouth, Harry's saying a firm no.

"Really?" Mr. Grimshaw hums. "I would've thought you, of all people, would jump at the chance to show off those two chords you know."

"I can play," Louis says, taking the focus off of Harry.

"Do you? Well, look at that. You could do a duet! Take the pressure off."

"I don't think--"

"Yeah," Louis says, talking over Harry. "We could."

"Excellent!" Mr. Grimshaw claps his hands together just as the song ends and the needle slides off of the record entirely. "Now, up. It's past curfew and you two don't need to get into any more trouble."

Louis smiles all the way back to the dormitory, but Harry doesn't seem to share his excitement. It's no use trying to talk to him anywhere outside of their room; even without their fellow student body milling around them, Harry hardly ever speaks.

"Did I do something wrong?" Louis asks once they're in their dormitory, separated once again by the barricade they have yet to dismantle.

"Do you really think it's a good idea for the two of us to get up on a stage? Aren't you worried about what the rugby team will say?"

"No?" Louis blinks. He hadn't even thought of that. "What's that matter?"

"Nevermind."

There's a shuffling sound and even with the barricade between them, Louis knows Harry's rolled over to face the wall.

"Harry?" Louis waits a minute before he speaks again. "Are we friends?"

Harry sighs deeply. "Yeah. We can be friends."

Louis smiles.

"You're still a twat, though."

"I can live with that."

*

It's surprisingly easy for Harry to get comfortable around Louis once he lets him in. The voice in the back of his head that used to never shut up is gone, no longer whispering doubts and filling Harry's head with negativity. He has a friend. A real friend for the first time since he came to this school.

They don't really talk when they're in class, but that doesn't bother Harry. He noticed in the first week that Louis doesn't really talk to anyone in class. He prefers to be silent unless called on by a teacher, and even then he'll answer questions as succinctly as possible to avoid speaking for longer than a few seconds at a time.

To his credit, Harry doesn't talk in class either. Or outside of class. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut to save his own skin, and that's a hard habit to break.

But when it's just them, Louis talks a lot. Harry does too, and together they talk about almost everything under the sun.

There's just one thing Harry doesn't talk about. He doesn't know how to tell Louis that he's gay, because what if that's the one thing that makes Louis turn against him? Now that he knows what it's like to have a friend, Harry can't imagine going back to the way things were before. He doesn't want to.

So he stays quiet about that part of himself. He tries his best to convince himself that it's not a big deal, that it's not a huge part of his identity that he's hiding from his best friend.

But then again, Harry doesn't know if they _are_ best friends. Would Louis call him his best friend? Harry would like to think so, but he can't be sure. It's not like he'd ask Louis to get up in front of the whole school and declare the two of them to be best friends. He doesn't need Louis to do that, and Harry definitely doesn't want that sort of attention.

He's content to stay as he is, as long as he's got his friend.

There's just one other thing that still sort of gets in the way, and that's rugby. Louis rarely mentions it at all, it just happens to be something that he does every afternoon. After practice is over he's back with Harry and they're in their own world.

But the first qualifying match for the finals is coming up, and that's something even Harry can't ignore. The whole school is expected to attend the first match as a sign of solidarity, but Harry's doing his best to come up with a plan to skip it entirely.

"You're really not going to come?" Louis asks the night before the match. They've been listening to music all afternoon in an effort to try and find the right song to perform at the talent show. "Not even to see me play?"

"Mate, it's rugby. Seen one match, you've seen them all." Harry shakes his head. "Not even you can get me to sit through that."

"C'mon. We can go out for a pint afterwards." Louis jostles Harry's shoulder. "It'll be fun."

"Yeah," Harry says dryly. "You and me and the rest of the rugby lads. Sounds fucking great."

Louis huffs out a breath and hangs his head. "Alright. Fair point."

"Thank you."

"But what're you going to do all evening? They'll know if you're not on the buses, y'know."

"I didn't say I wasn't going on the bus," Harry replies. "I'm just not going to the match."

Louis rolls his eyes. "You're mad, d'you know that?"

Harry smiles as the turntable goes quiet. He nods his head towards it and nudges Louis' knee lightly. "It's your turn to pick."

True to his word, Harry does get on the bus the following afternoon. But when the rest of the school is filing off and towards the pitch, Harry makes a break for it. He's lucky enough to not get noticed by any of the chaperones and he finds himself wandering around the city centre within minutes.

His first stop is a pub for a quick bite to eat and a place to sit so he can plan out the rest of his day. There's tons of shops and plenty of things to look at as he browses around the streets, but what catches his eye is a small theatre hosting a mini film festival. Admission is a steal at just a few pounds, and he settles into a seat somewhere in the middle of the rows.

What he neglected to discern from the advertisement is that all of the films are in French. He knows a handful of phrases from his lessons, but he's nowhere near proficient enough to actually understand what's going on in any of the films.

His mind wanders during the second film, wondering if the match is going well. He's never cared about a rugby match before in his life but he knows Louis has a lot riding on his shoulders. It'll be best for him if they win the match, if they move on towards the finals.

Harry doesn't waste time thinking about what it might mean for their friendship if the rugby team does well. More victories might mean more practices. Then again, losing might mean the same thing. He can almost hear the coach's voice in his head, _just because the season is over doesn't mean our work is!_

He chuckles to himself and slumps down further into his seat, ever thankful that he never tried out for the rugby team.

The third film loses Harry's interest entirely and he ends up falling asleep in the theatre, waking up only when the lights come up. His whole body feels like one giant knot from sitting for so long and it takes a minute or two for his legs to remember how to hold his weight.

When he emerges from the theatre he realizes that he's missed the bus back to school, which puts a bit of a damper on the evening. Harry knows there's a train station somewhere in the city, and it'll likely have some connection to the one near his school, he just has to find it first.

As he wanders through the streets, Harry's mind wanders again to Louis. If they won the match, he's likely to still be celebrating with the team. He wonders if they would've made it back to the bus on time or if they're still in the city somewhere. He remembers how Louis wanted them to get a pint after the match, but Harry still thinks that would've been a rubbish idea.

There's no way Louis would've been able to get away from his teammates to properly spend time with Harry. And there's absolutely no way that Harry would've ever willingly spent time around the rugby team after they've all been drinking. It's a recipe for disaster, and no mistake.

Harry finally finds a map of the city centre, realizing he's managed to miss the train station by just a few blocks for the last half an hour at the very least. He's in the middle of trying to memorize the way there when a figure catches his attention out of the corner of his eye.

At first he thinks he's just seeing things, but then he does a double take. He squints, hardly able to see in the dark, but then the figure passes under a streetlight and Harry recognizes him.

"Louis?" he calls out, but his voice hardly carries a few feet. He hasn't spoken aloud in hours and Louis disappears around a corner, not having heard Harry at all.

Giving up on memorizing his route to the train station, Harry takes off after him. He figures maybe Louis is looking for the train station too, and even if he's not then at least they'll be together. Neither will have to make the journey back to school on his own.

Louis rounds another corner before Harry can catch up to him, and by the time he makes the turn, Louis has disappeared. Harry comes to a stop and looks down the alley, seeing just one other person. It's a bulky man standing next to an unmarked door, and Harry takes that to mean that he's the bouncer and the door likely leads to a club.

Harry's never been to a club before, he isn't legally allowed in them. But if Louis got in then maybe they're a bit lenient on the rules and he'll be able to go in after him. All he has to do is play it cool and try his luck.

Needless to say, it doesn't work.

"No ID, no entry. Sorry, mate."

"But my friend--" Harry tries, "-- he just went in."

"Must be older than you," the bouncer replies as he shakes his head.

"Alright," Harry says with a sigh. "I'll, umm, I'll just wait."

"Suit yourself."

A few minutes go by and Harry tries to strike up a conversation with the bouncer. It doesn't work, and so Harry goes silent again. He's starting to feel a bit like an idiot just standing outside of an unknown club. He has no idea when Louis is going to come out, or if he even went in there in the first place. He's torn between wanting to give up and wanting to stay.

Another few minutes pass and the door opens, but it's not Louis who comes out. Harry stumbles back a few feet when two men step outside. One of them smiles at him as the other fishes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. As they walk away from the club, the one who smiled at Harry slips his hand into the back pocket of the other's jeans.

Harry stares for a moment, and then looks at the door to the club. He glances at the bouncer, who's been keeping a steady eye on him the whole time, and something suddenly clicks in Harry's head. It's not just any club.

"I think… I'm going to go." Harry gestures uselessly behind him as he takes a few steps backwards. The bouncer doesn't say anything, but Harry can feel his eyes on his back as soon as he turns around.

He doesn't set off at a run, but it's a near miss.

Eventually he finds his way to the train station and boards a train heading back towards the school. The carriage he picks to ride in is empty save for him, which is good. It gives him the space he needs to process what he's just witnessed.

But that's the question: what _did_ he witness? He didn't actually see Louis go into the club. For all he knows, Louis went somewhere completely different. He might be jumping to conclusions.

 _But what if I'm not?_ Harry thinks to himself. _What if Louis is gay?_

Harry shuts his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. It can't be true. He would've known, he would've figured it out before. There would've been some sort of sign.

He opens his eyes and leans his head back against the headrest, turning his eyes to the window. It's too dark outside to make anything out as the train picks up speed, and it's oddly calming.

Harry takes another deep breath and wills himself to forget what he saw, or rather what he didn't see. Maybe he imagined the whole thing. Maybe Louis is back in their dormitory right now, sleeping off a night of drinking to their victory.

"Yeah," Harry says aloud. "That's where he is. I'll get back and he'll already be in bed."

But when Harry finally makes it back to the dormitory, Louis isn't there. He goes to bed and tries not to think about what that means.

*

They win. It's not really a surprise, all things considered, but Louis would be lying if he said he hadn't secretly been hoping they'd lose. Then again, if he'd really wanted to lose he wouldn't have played the best he could.

Louis' head is full of contradictions lately.

It's a relief when he slips away from the rest of the team later that evening, when they're all too drunk to notice they're missing him. He's been around them all long enough that it's starting to feel suffocating. He has to get away now or else he might lose his mind.

He doesn't have a destination at first. He's just going to wander around the city for a while and then catch a train back home. But as he wanders aimlessly down random streets, he remembers hearing about a bar somewhere nearby. A bar that his teammates would never be caught dead hanging around.

A bar for someone like him.

Louis doesn't expect to feel relieved as soon as he steps through the door. He wasn't sure the bouncer was going to let him inside in the first place, so he attributes the relief to being able to go in at first. But as the minutes pass he finds himself feeling more and more comfortable. He makes his way to the bar and orders a drink, and suddenly he's smiling.

He's never felt like this before. It's almost like he's home. In that moment he realizes that it doesn't even matter what happens for the rest of the night. He could go home without having spoken to anyone at the bar and he's still going to feel like he really accomplished something.

That feeling lasts for approximately ten minutes.

Louis puts his back to the bar and glances around, and that's when he sees him. Mr. Grimshaw's sitting at a table across the floor with another man, and even if they weren't in a gay bar there'd be no mistaking it. They're not just friends.

It only takes a few seconds for Mr. Grimshaw to realize he's being watched and look Louis' way, and Louis isn't quick enough to look away before their eyes meet. His eyes widen a little, but otherwise he stays completely still.

Louis, on the other hand, bolts. He leaves his still half full drink on the bar and gets to the exit as quickly as he can. He tries to remain calm, to act casual as he passes the bouncer on his way out, but as soon as he turns the corner he takes off running.

He makes it to the train station a minute too late to catch the next train back to school, and he spends the next twenty minutes pacing around the station. His mind is awash with worry and fear, and he has nobody to blame but his own stupid self.

Nobody was supposed to see him there. Nobody he knew was supposed to _be_ there. Why did Mr. Grimshaw have to choose the same fucking place? Would he tell anybody that he saw Louis there?

Louis finally settles into a seat in an otherwise empty train compartment and wills the train to leave immediately. He just wants to get back to school, go to bed, and forget that this whole mess ever happened. If he can just avoid Mr. Grimshaw at all costs, maybe everything will be okay.

The universe has other plans, because before the train starts moving, the compartment doors open. Louis hears someone walking down the aisle but doesn't turn around until that person comes and sits down in the row next to his. It's Mr. Grimshaw.

"Louis," he says cordially.

Louis nods in return.

"Almost missed the train, can you believe it?" he laughs. Louis stays silent, well aware that he's turning red and he wishes Mr. Grimshaw would please just _shut up_.

He doesn't.

"Well done on the match today," he goes on. "You played really well, I heard?"

"Yeah, well," Louis clears his throat. "Team effort, and all that."

"And now you're, uhh, in the finals?"

"Semi-finals."

"Ah, right, yes. Semi-finals." He laughs again. "Never followed rugby before, y'know. Hardly follow it now, if I'm honest, but y'know." He balls up his fist and gestures outwards. "Go team!"

"Yeah…" Louis clears his throat again and looks down at his hands.

"Right." Mr. Grimshaw goes silent for a moment and Louis wills him not to speak again. "Well, I--"

"It's not what you think," Louis blurts.

"What? I don't--"

"I just needed to use the loo," he lies. "I didn't know--"

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," Mr. Grimshaw says. "My friend, he's just… he's very affectionate, you see, and…"

"I shouldn't have been in there, anyway." Louis shrugs his shoulders. "Y'know, I should've just gone back to school with the rest of the team!" He laughs a little, and it comes out strained and anxious.

"I think…" Mr. Grimshaw takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I think it'd be best if neither of us mentioned this to anyone."

"I'd never..." Louis turns to him. "Sir, I swear--"

"Good, yes." Mr. Grimshaw nods. "Then we're settled."

"Absolutely."

"Never speak of it again."

"Exactly."

"Good." He nods again and they both share a sigh of relief.

The rest of the train ride back to school is awkward, but Louis does feel relieved. He knows neither of them want the rest of the school to know where they were and it's actually sort of nice to have the camaraderie of secrecy.

Though when Louis gets into bed later that night, he half-wishes that he'd just told the truth. That he'd confessed to Mr. Grimshaw that it's alright, that he's gay as well and he'd never out anyone let alone his teacher. Maybe then some of the weight would be lifted from his shoulders and he could finally relax.

Maybe then he'd get up the nerve to share it with Harry too. He's been thinking about it for a while, but any time the opportunity arises he can't bring himself to do it. And after tonight's absolute mess, Louis lost his perfect chance to at least tell _someone_.

But maybe it's for the best. Louis doesn't want to cause any trouble for anyone, least of all for himself, and that's all revealing his secret would do.

*

Harry's distracted. He's been distracted for a week now and it's not getting any better. He and Louis have been separately practicing their parts for their act at the upcoming talent show, but today they're going to finally bring them together and work out any kinks that pop up.

The problem is, Harry can't seem to make it through his part without messing up at least once. And it's not because he doesn't know the song, because he does, it's because he's distracted.

He keeps thinking about seeing Louis in town, and he can't stop wondering if Louis actually did go into the gay bar or not. He can't stop his mind from speculating all the things that go along with it and it's driving him absolutely mad. But he hasn't said a word to Louis about it and he's trying to pretend like everything is perfectly fine.

But he can't stop getting distracted.

"Did you even practice?" Louis asks as he groans with frustration. They've had to stop playing four separate times now because Harry keeps losing his place.

"I did!"

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"I do!" Harry insists. "Let's just start over. I'll get it this time."

He doesn't actually believe his own words, but it does well enough to convince Louis to try for a fifth time. Unfortunately for the both of them, it doesn't prove to be the charm.

"Fucking come on!" Louis groans louder this time and sets his own guitar down, scooting closer to Harry on the couch as he starts pointing out the chords Harry is _supposed_ to be playing.

Louis' face is just inches away from Harry's, and that just makes things worse. Harry's mind starts wondering if Louis has ever kissed a boy before. He wonders what it would feel like to kiss Louis, if the slight stubble he's got on his chin would rub against Harry's skin and make it red.

Between one moment and the next, Harry leans forward and kisses him.

Louis immediately freezes. He'd been in the middle of a sentence when Harry surprised him, and the sudden change of events sends him into full panic mode.

A few seconds go by before Harry realizes that Louis isn't kissing him back and he pulls away. He immediately slides backwards and when his back hits the arm of the couch he starts apologizing profusely.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I'm _so_ sorry, Louis!" Harry stutters as he speaks and all the while Louis stays perfectly still and eerily silent.

Harry keeps apologizing and, in a fit of hysteria, he ends up half shouting that they should just go back to practicing. He fixes his attention on the guitar in his hands and starts playing the song, managing to play through all the parts he'd been messing up before.

But he doesn't finish the song because Louis reaches out and presses his palm against the strings, blocking Harry's ability to strum.

"You kissed me," Louis says quietly.

"Y-Yeah." Harry breathes shakily, still staring down at the guitar. Louis' hand is still pressed against it, but Harry tries not to look at it.

"Why did you kiss me?" Louis asks.

"I dunno," Harry answers honestly. "I… I didn't mean to." He chances a look at Louis' face and immediately regrets what he said when he sees the pained look on his face. "I mean, I didn't plan on it. I didn't come here to kiss you, that's what I meant."

"But you did. You kissed me."

"Yeah."

"How did you know?"

Harry's confused by the question, and he looks at Louis again. The pain is still there on his face, but it's different now. Try as he might, he still doesn't understand what Louis is asking.

"What do you mean?"

"How did you know…" Louis lowers his voice to barely above a whisper, "...that I'm gay?"

"I didn't!" Harry gulps. "Well, I… I didn't-- I wasn't sure."

"But you figured it out?"

"Well--" Harry gulps again. "I… it was an accident."

"What was?"

"I saw you… in town. After the match."

Louis' face goes pale and Harry scrambles to save the conversation from going completely downhill.

"But I wasn't sure! I didn't actually see you go into the--"

"Harry, stop--"

"But I'm just saying--"

"I don't want to--"

"It's alright, Louis, I don't--"

"Harry!"

"I'm gay too!" Harry shouts, and then immediately claps both hands over his mouth. Louis' eyes go wide and Harry covers his whole face with his hands, letting the guitar fall forward so it's between the two of them.

Neither of them say a word for several minutes. Harry's too embarrassed to even show his face, let alone to say anything more. This never would've happened if he'd just gone to the fucking train station like he was supposed to.

"Harry?" Louis says, breaking the silence. Harry grunts in reply but still doesn't uncover his face. "Do you want to know why I came to this school?"

Harry peeks at Louis from between his fingers. "Yeah," he says, the word muffled by the palms of his hands.

"I got kicked out of my other school for fighting," Louis says carefully. Harry watches as he picks at a stray thread on the hem of his sweater, fidgeting to overcome the fear of sharing the uncomfortable subject matter. "Someone outed me and… I decided the best reaction was to kick the shit out of anyone who tried to take the piss." He shrugs. "The administration didn't agree with me."

"How did they find out?" Harry asks, finally pulling his hands away from his face. "Did they just assume, or…"

"I dunno." Louis shakes his head. "I never found out. I just… I didn't want that to follow me here. I just wanted to keep my head down."

"I get it," Harry says. "That's all I've done since I came to this school, too."

"It's funny," Louis says with a soft laugh.

"What?"

"Us. Y'know." Louis gestures between them. "Of all the kids at the school, they room us together."

"Oh." Harry laughs, pressing one of his hands to his face again as he feels his cheeks go pink. "We don't…" He clears his throat and looks away. "You don't have to worry, y'know. I won't kiss you again."

"You could…" Louis clears his throat. "Y'know, if you wanted to."

"Really?" Harry looks at Louis and a small smile spreads across his face.

"Yeah." Louis shrugs one shoulder. "I mean, I wouldn't mind."

Harry ducks his head, now grinning broadly despite feeling bashful. He's never had someone want to kiss him before and he's not really sure how to handle it. Neither of them seem to know how to make the first move, as is made abundantly clear when neither move towards the other.

"Did you mean…" Harry clears his throat. "Like, now?"

"Yeah?" Louis nervously scratches the back of his neck. "Or we could go back to practicing. Dunno about you, but I might be a little distracted."

Harry snorts with laughter as he finally moves his guitar from its spot between them and moves closer to Louis on the couch.

"I've never done this before," Harry admits.

"You just did like ten minutes ago."

"No, I mean, like…" Harry gestures uselessly. "There's a lot of buildup, y'know? What if…"

"What if it's rubbish?" Louis offers.

"Yeah." Harry laughs uneasily.

"Only one way to find out," Louis says. Before Harry can say another word, Louis puts his hand on the side of Harry's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

It's different from the other kiss right off the bat. For one, Louis is actually participating in the kiss instead of sitting frozen. It takes a second for Harry to get over the initial shock of Louis kissing him, but once he does and he starts kissing back, the whole world changes.

Louis pulls back after a while, leaving his hand on Harry's neck. Harry opens his eyes and clears his throat, making Louis chuckle softly.

"That was…" He laughs softly, "...decidedly not rubbish."

"Glad to hear it," Louis says before going in for another kiss.

*

Louis never saw any of this coming. When he switched schools, he thought for sure this one would be just the same as the last. He didn't account for Harry, not at all. They're both so used to hiding that part of themselves that the morning after their first kiss, they're more awkward around each other than they've ever been before.

It's not even like they're around other people, they're in their own room. It reminds Louis of when he first moved in, when Harry wouldn't speak to him at all and Louis had no idea what to say. Now it feels like there's so much he could say, so much that he _wants_ to say, but he doesn't know where to begin.

At least Harry doesn't glare at him anymore. They can continue not talking if it's just due to nerves over whatever their relationship is turning into, Louis doesn't mind. He just wants to stay happy. He wants them both to be happy.

"Did…" Harry chuckles softly. "...did last night actually happen?"

Louis laughs. "I think it did. Any regrets?"

"A couple," Harry admits, and Louis tries not let it show on his face when his heart sinks. "Not, like, about us. Just like… the way I went about it. I could've done that better."

"That's true," Louis replies and they both laugh.

"What about you?" Harry asks. "Any regrets?"

Louis pauses for a moment before shaking his head. "Can't think of any."

"Does that mean you want to kiss me again?" Harry asks, trying and failing to hold back his smile.

"Reckon it does." Louis grins.

The thing is, they can't actually spend the whole day kissing. They have classes, and they've got to work on their act for the talent show. Not to mention, Louis has rugby practice.

That's not to say that they both wouldn't rather spend the day kissing. It's a whole new world for both of them. It's hardly been a day and Louis is already thinking about what they're going to do when they're done with school.

When they can be somewhere else, far away from everyone and everything at this school. When they can be themselves for the first time without caring about what other people think. It seems like a dream, probably because Louis has been dreaming about it forever. He just hadn't ever thought that he'd find someone to share in the dream with while he was still in school.

The more time they spend together (time spent both kissing and not kissing) the happier Louis becomes, which quickly bleeds into his demeanor even when Harry isn't around.

A routine starts up at the beginning of the week where the ten minutes Louis has between the end of classes and rugby practice is spent snogging Harry. And as soon as practice is over, Louis is high-tailing it to the basement where they've been practicing their act for the talent show.

(They have to enforce strict rules there. No snogging until the set is played through correctly at least twice. Then a five minute snogging session is allowed. Sometimes it goes over the five minutes.)

As much as Louis is looking forward to performing at the talent show, he also can't deny that he's very much looking forward to it being _over_ so his evenings after rugby practice can be spent snogging Harry without having to worry about any other responsibilities (minus coursework, which unfortunately is always hanging overhead).

Even more unfortunately, everything blows up in Louis' face before the talent show even happens.

It's only been a week of this new thing between Harry and Louis when a choice has to be made. A choice that Louis never expected he'd have to make, and a choice that ultimately will do nothing but hurt everyone involved.

Friday evening after rugby practice, Louis gets cornered by the same arsehole whose nose he broke weeks before. Louis tries to ignore him at first, too preoccupied by wanting to get out of the changing rooms and back to Harry. They've only got tonight and tomorrow morning to perfect their act for the talent show tomorrow evening, and Louis wants to make sure it's the best it can be.

"Where are you running off to?"

"What's it to you, Charles?" Louis snaps.

"Well," Charles laughs, "I'm not the only one who's noticed you've been a bit distracted lately. Seems to me like you might not be as committed to winning the cup as the rest of us."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You don't want to be the reason we lose the cup, now, do you?"

Louis laughs. "Fuck off, Charles, I'm not--"

"Did you know I've got a cousin who goes to your old school?"

Louis freezes. "Is that right?" he answers, trying to remain calm and casual.

"He told me a funny thing. I thought he was taking the piss at first, but y'know… it makes a lot of sense."

"What does?"

"Well, you've been hanging around with Harry an awful lot. Doesn't take much to put two and two together."

Louis bristles. "You've got no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Charles laughs. "Seems to me like I've hit a nerve. Makes me think I know exactly what I'm talking about."

Louis lunges at him, but he's ready for it this time. He shoves Louis back into the lockers and it knocks the wind out of him.

"I'll make you a deal," he says as he towers over Louis. "You quit hanging around with that freak, get your head right, and I'll keep what I know to myself. You wouldn't want the whole school to know about the two of you, would you?"

Louis doesn't answer, but he doesn't have to. He's already lost.

He's left alone in the changing rooms, but instead of finishing getting cleaned up Louis goes back out onto the pitch and starts running drills. He needs to clear his head and this is the only way he knows how to do it.

Harry will understand. He'll probably just assume practice went long. He understands that at this school, rugby comes first. No matter what. It's not up to Louis, it's just the way things are.

It's a lucky excuse. Louis can't face Harry right now. He doesn't want to involve Harry in any part of this. It's not his fault, any of it. He doesn't deserve to be dragged into this awful mess when it's all Louis' fault. The only person who can make this right is Louis, and the only way he can make it right is if he agrees to Charles' terrible conditions.

Once the finals are over, things can go back to normal. They'll win the final, Louis will tell Charles to fuck off, and he'll patch things up with Harry. Everything will be alright, he just has to wait it out a bit longer.

He stays on the pitch until nearly 10pm, heading straight back to the dormitory after cleaning himself up in the changing rooms. He doesn't expect Harry to be there and as a result, he jumps when he opens the door and finds Harry waiting for him.

"You alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," Louis lies. "Practice went long, is all."

"I figured."

"And we've got one in the morning, too." Louis avoids looking Harry in the eye as he crosses the room and climbs into his bed.

"Will you have time to practice the song before the show?" Harry asks hesitantly.

"Dunno," Louis replies as he rolls over and faces the wall.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Louis lies again. "Just tired."

"Okay," Harry answers quietly. He doesn't say anything else as he turns off the light and gets into his own bed, and Louis shuts his eyes tightly.

He wills himself to fall asleep quickly so he doesn't have to think about how terrible everything is already. All he wants to do is climb into Harry's bed and have everything be okay. If he could go back to yesterday and pretend like nothing bad was ever going to happen, he would in a heartbeat.

 _This is going to work_ , he tells himself. _We just have to get through it._

*

Louis is gone when Harry wakes up the following morning. He's not surprised once he remembers Louis having told him about an early rugby practice the night before, but it doesn't mean he isn't disappointed. He thought maybe they could actually talk about what happened the night before, because Harry certainly isn't stupid.

Something must've happened to Louis at practice for him. Harry isn't necessarily upset over being stood up, he knew that could happen with the rugby finals drawing ever closer, but to have Louis barely say a word to him? Harry knows something's not right.

He doesn't want things to go back to the way they were before they were friends. They've both come too far to let it all fall apart, and Harry certainly doesn't want to go back to being the black sheep of the school. It'd be too hard now, knowing exactly what he'd be missing.

But rather than spend the whole day working himself up over nothing, Harry chooses not to worry. He and Louis will talk later, and they'll perform at the talent show tonight, and everything will be fine.

When it comes time to leave for the talent show and Louis still hasn't come back, Harry starts to worry. He goes to the other school on his own, but runs into Mr. Grimshaw backstage. He came to show his support for the two of them and is just as surprised to hear that Louis hasn't shown up yet.

"He'll come," Harry says, barely believing the words coming out of his mouth.

Mr. Grimshaw pats his shoulder consolingly, but Harry can tell by the look on his face that he doesn't believe him any more than Harry believes himself. They wait together until there's only one more act before Harry and Louis are supposed to go on, and then Harry loses hope altogether.

"He's not coming," Mr. Grimshaw says sadly, "but you can still do this."

"I can't," Harry says, "it's supposed to be a duet, I'll make a fool of myself."

"Nonsense! You can do this!"

Harry gives him a look of disbelief and Mr. Grimshaw offers him a smile.

"You just need to go out there and let them hear your voice. That's all."

Harry reluctantly goes out on stage, but it's no use. He messes up note after note on the guitar because his head is too busy wondering about Louis, and as a result he forgets half the lyrics he's supposed to be singing. Giggles spread throughout the audience, as it's filled with mostly students along with a few sets of parents and teachers, and Harry receives the most pitiful of applause at the end.

It's probably the most embarrassed Harry's ever been in his entire life and he's angry, _so angry_ , at Louis. If he'd just bothered to show up then this could've been what it was supposed to be. Harry never should've believed that Louis really cared about anything other than rugby.

If Louis doesn't want to do anything that doesn't have to do with rugby, then Harry won't press the matter. He'll go back to ignoring Louis. He can do that.

The semi-finals match comes and goes with another win, which means their team is now in the finals. Harry doesn't even pretend to go this time, instead hiding in the dormitory until the buses have left. He spends the day down in the basement listening to records and telling himself that everything is fine. It's all just gone back to normal.

He had a few weeks of something that was never going to last, and he should've known that from the start. He never should've let himself believe anything was going to change.

But the longer he thinks about it, the more he wants to talk to Louis. He shouldn't want to talk to him, he shouldn't want to even give him the time of day, but he does. Harry just wants the chance to know why Louis did this. He wants to know why Louis made him believe that things could be different, that they could be together and everything would be okay. He wants to know if it was all a joke, if any of it was real.

After that night, Harry tries to get Louis to talk to him every chance he gets. It doesn't work in class; he's usually chastised by the teachers for talking. Louis never comes back to the dormitory before Harry falls asleep, and he's gone long before Harry wakes up, so that doesn't work either.

It's what makes Harry choose to confront him after rugby practice one day. The coach isn't around, it's just Louis and the team. It's harsh, but Harry can't help but think if he threatens to tell the truth around the team then maybe Louis will actually agree to speak with him privately.

(Harry has no intention of actually saying anything about their relationship with the rugby team around. Not only would it ruin Louis' life, it would make his own a living hell. All he wants is a chance to talk to Louis and he's made it have to be this way.)

But Charles gets in his way before Harry can even say a word.

"What're you doing here, freak?"

"I just want to talk to Louis."

"You should leave," Charles says, getting in Harry's face. "Nobody wants you around here."

"I want to talk to my friend," Harry says. Charles laughs uproariously, as though Harry's just told a joke.

"You haven't got any friends here! Run along now, before I have to make you."

Harry tries to push past Charles, but it's a stupid thing to do. Charles shoves him backwards and Harry throws a punch in retaliation. His fist explodes with pain as it connects with Charles' chin, making him distracted and giving Charles the perfect chance to hit him right back. He's much stronger than Harry, and when he hits, Harry goes down hard.

Someone pulls Charles back before he can hit Harry again. When Harry looks up, he realizes it's Louis. But he's not checking to see if Harry's okay, he's too busy pushing Charles backwards.

"Go back to the dorm, Harry," Louis says over his shoulder.

"What?" Harry struggles to get to his feet.

"Go," Louis repeats firmly.

"No."

"Harry--"

"No, I won't! Not until you tell me why--"

"Listen to him!" Charles laughs. "He's fucking in love with you, isn't he?"

"What's that matter to you?" Harry shouts, losing all control. "Are you going to hit me again for being gay? Hasn't stopped you before, has it?!"

Everyone goes quiet. Harry's breathing hard as he stares the entire rugby team down, and they're all looking back at him with matching bewildered looks apart from Louis. His back is still to Harry and he makes no effort to turn around.

"What about the rest of you?" Harry goes on, gesturing to the others standing around awkwardly. "You want to try your luck with the gay kid? I'm right here!" He throws his arms open wide and a few of them nervously turn to each other as if to say _what the fuck is going on_.

Harry scoffs when nobody makes another sound, and he shakes his head.

"You're all the same," he mutters. "I should've known." He looks up at Louis, who's still not looking at him. "I never should've even bothered."

He turns around and walks away, not once looking back over his shoulder. Whatever he and Louis had before, it's clearly dead and buried. There's no use in trying to understand it anymore.

*

Louis feels broken. He thought he'd be able to make it through the end of the rugby finals pretending like everything was alright, but it's so much worse than he ever expected.

Harry's never going to speak to him again, and Louis can't even blame him. He never should've expected Harry to simply go along with this stupid plan, _of course_ he was going to put up a fight. Louis should've just told him about it from the beginning and then everything would've been fine.

Or Harry would've told Louis it was a stupid idea and never speak to him again. So far Louis is having trouble finding an outcome in which his relationship with Harry isn't a casualty of his plan, which is something he should've thought about in advance. If he had, maybe he would've realized that rugby certainly isn't worth losing Harry entirely.

He could go back to being just friends if that's what Harry wanted. But he can't go back to not being anything to him at all. He has to fix this.

Louis finds himself in the faculty dormitory knocking on Mr. Grimshaw's door. He looks about as surprised as Louis expected, but he doesn't turn him away.

"Can we talk?" Louis pleads.

"Sure, yeah." Mr. Grimshaw clears his throat and gestures for Louis to step back. "Can't invite you in here, against regulations."

Louis nods as he steps backwards to let Mr. Grimshaw come through the door, closing and locking it behind him.

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" he asks. Louis nods again.

Neither of them speak as they leave the dormitory, but once they're outside Mr. Grimshaw tries to start up a conversation. He can handle small talk well enough, he casually mentions the rugby finals and tries to seem like he's interested even though Louis knows full well he doesn't care one bit. Louis should be thankful that he's not reprimanding him for not coming to the talent show, but his head's spinning too fast to even think about that right now.

"Mr. Grimshaw," he says suddenly, interrupting whatever thought he was having. "You… your friend. That night."

"What about him?" Mr. Grimshaw seems a bit rattled by the subject but he doesn't immediately shut Louis down about it, which more than anything encourages him to go on.

"I saw you. You're… you're together, aren't you?"

"Louis," he says with a sigh, "we talked about this, remember? He's just a very affectionate--"

"No, look, I don't care!" Louis sighs in frustration. "I don't care if he's your boyfriend or your partner or if you're not… whatever, I… I need advice. I need to know that I can fix things."

"Fix things? What sort of things?" He looks properly concerned now. "Louis, what's happened?"

"I fucked up," Louis admits. His voice cracks as his throat swells up and his eyes fill with tears. "I've made so many mistakes and I don't know how to fix any of it."

"Well, start at the beginning," Mr. Grimshaw offers. "One step at a time."

"It's Harry." Louis takes in a shaky breath and presses his hand to his forehead. "He hates me."

"I'm sure that's not true. He might be angry about the talent show, but I'm sure he'll--"

"No, it's more than that," Louis interrupts. "It's so much more. I… he…" He pauses, unsure of what to say next. He shouldn't out Harry, not to a teacher. It doesn't matter that Harry just outed himself in front of the whole rugby team and it's probably all over the school, it's still not Louis' place. But how's he supposed to get any advice about how to repair the damage he caused if Mr. Grimshaw doesn't know the whole story?

"Louis?" Mr. Grimshaw says gently after Louis has been silent for several minutes. He tentatively reaches out to place a comforting hand on Louis' shoulder, but recoils when Louis starts shaking his head.

"I don't know what to do," he says as he starts to cry, falling to his knees on the grass. "He's never going to speak to me again."

"It's alright, it's going to be alright." He kneels down beside Louis and carefully pats his back, telling him over and over that everything is going to be alright.

By the time Louis has stopped crying, he's already figured out what Louis was dreading having to explain.

"You two are affectionate friends as well, aren't you?" he says, offering a smile when Louis looks at him.

"You could say that," Louis says weakly.

"It does get better," Mr. Grimshaw says. "I know that's tossed around a lot, but believe me, it's true. Once you're away from all of this--" he gestures back at the school, "--you'll be far better off. You will."

"What about now?" Louis asks. "How do I fix… everything?"

"That… is a good question." He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, so slowly that Louis thinks he might actually have an answer for him by the time he's done. "I don't know," he says instead.

"Grand," Louis says with a scoff.

"I can't very well answer it for you, can I?" Mr. Grimshaw says. "I don't know the whole story, and I don't have to. This is about you and Harry, and when it comes down to it, you two are the only ones who can fix it. But you certainly can't fix it at all if you don't even try." He sighs. "Have you tried?"

Louis hangs his head.

"I thought as much." Mr. Grimshaw helps Louis back to his feet and brushes off his shoulders. "Go and find him. Try and apologize. He might not accept it, he might not even hear you out, but you've got to try. Alright?"

"Alright," Louis answers softly.

"Okay." He pats Louis' shoulders. "You can do this."

Louis nods, holding his tongue instead of saying _if you say so_. He turns away from Mr. Grimshaw and starts walking back towards the student dormitories, pausing when he hears his name.

"Good luck at the finals tomorrow," Mr. Grimshaw says, giving Louis another smile.

"Thanks," Louis calls back. What he doesn't say is that he has no intention of going to the finals. Whether or not he gets Harry to forgive him, he's done playing rugby.

It doesn't take long for Louis to reach his shared room, but he stands outside the door for at least ten minutes before he opens it. He's working up the courage to say everything he needs to say to Harry, and he can only hope that he'll remember it all. Hell, he can only hope that Harry's even in the room.

Harry's sitting on his bed when Louis opens the door. He expected Harry to be upset with him but it still hurts more than Louis thought it would when Harry averts his eyes.

"Hi," Louis says. Harry doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look up.

Louis steps into the room and closes the door behind him. He takes a single step towards Harry's side of the room and in response Harry turns his back on him.

"Can we talk?" Louis asks.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" Harry replies angrily, still facing the opposite wall.

"I'm sorry," Louis says, already starting to forget all the things he'd been planning to say. "I didn't--"

"You're sorry?" Harry turns back around and gets to his feet. "What're you sorry for? For disappearing on me? For ignoring me for weeks? For letting your stupid teammates treat me like shit and doing fucking nothing about it?"

"Yes," Louis pleads, "please, Harry, I--"

"You just stood there," Harry continues in a scathing tone, "you fucking stood there and you… you wouldn't even _look_ at me. And now you're telling me you're _sorry_? You don't even know what you're sorry for, do you?"

"I'm sorry for everything! I never should've listened to Charles, he threatened to--"

"I don't care about Charles! He's always been a prick!" Harry shouts. "But you… you were my friend. You were…" Harry's breath catches and he looks away. "You turned your back on me for what?" he says in a low voice. "Fucking rugby?"

"I'm sorry," Louis begs. "I thought I could fix it. I thought I could make things better. I just--"

"Make things _better_? By pretending like I didn't exist? By taking away the one good thing I had at this school? By reminding me that you're just like all the others? You don't care about anyone or anything but yourself and stupid fucking rugby."

"No, that's not me. You know that's not me, Harry."

"I don't know anything about you," Harry replies coldly. "The Louis I thought I knew would've never done this. You're just another rugby meathead."

"Harry," Louis says brokenly. This can't be happening. Harry has to listen, he has to give Louis another chance. If Louis could just get the words out then Harry would see that he was only trying to protect them. His heart was in the right place even though it's obvious now he was doing the completely wrong thing.

"Get out."

"Harry--"

"I said get out!" Harry shouts. "I don't want you in here!"

Louis' bottom lip trembles but he doesn't burst into tears again. He keeps his head up as Harry turns away from him and goes back to ignoring Louis' presence entirely, heading back to the door to leave as Harry's asked.

"Do you remember when I told you why I left my old school?" Louis asks, pausing at the door with his hand on the handle. He looks over his shoulder at Harry but it's hard to tell whether or not Harry's actually going to listen. "I was picking fights with anyone who'd found out about me. Eventually, there were just too many of them. So I came here, and I found you. When Charles threatened me, I could've just run away again. But I didn't want to desert you."

"Louis--"

"I stayed," Louis says firmly. "Yes, I still fucked up. I know that. I should've just fucking told you about Charles, about my old school, about _everything_. But I was scared. I wanted to fix things on my own. I didn't want to hurt you. I'm here, Harry. I'm trying."

Louis pauses, waiting to see if Harry's going to say anything.

"But I guess…" Louis' breath shudders as he inhales. "I'll go. If that's what you really want."

Louis waits another few seconds for Harry to make a move, to say something, but he doesn't. Harry keeps silent and still as Louis opens the door and walks through it, pulling it shut behind him. As Louis walks down the corridor he keeps expecting Harry to come after him, to make him come back so they can talk more, but he doesn't.

He makes it all the way outside before he comes to grips with the reality of his situation. He's all alone.

*

Harry went to bed still fuming but in the morning when he wakes up and sees Louis' empty bed on the other side of the room, he doesn't feel angry anymore. He feels sad and tired. All he wanted was to talk to Louis and last night Louis actually opened up about everything and what did Harry do? He told him to leave.

"Stupid," Harry mutters. He rolls over, turning his back on Louis' empty bed, and pulls his covers up over his head. There's no reason for him to get up when the rest of the school is going to be all abuzz with the finals match that evening.

Harry stays in bed all morning but he doesn't go back to sleep. His mind won't let him because it's too busy going over the last couple of months with a fine-tooth comb.

At the beginning of the semester, Harry had no one. Then Louis came around and Harry didn't want anything to do with him. There's a part of Harry that wishes he could go back to that right now, because at least then he wouldn't know what he was missing.

He starts thinking about how they became friends. How they bonded over music, and how easy it was to talk to Louis. Harry had never had that with anyone before, not even his own sister. In hindsight, Harry reckons maybe he'd been falling for Louis a lot earlier than he thought.

And then there was the kiss. Harry still feels embarrassed about that whole thing, even though that night turned out to be one of the best nights of his life. But now Harry wonders if it was all a mistake. Maybe he should never have kissed Louis again. He should've just chalked it up to a one time mistake and never pressed the issue any further. Maybe then this whole mess never would've happened.

Harry rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he replays Louis' speech from the night before in his head. Louis mentioned that Charles threatened him, but what did that mean? What did Charles know about Louis that would've forced him to agree to whatever awful terms he'd come up with? It couldn't just be about his being gay, could it?

"It's not fair," Harry mumbles as he rolls over onto his side and presses his face into his pillow. "It's just not fair."

Weren't they both in the same position? Harry had kept that same secret from everyone here for ages, so why didn't Louis trust that they could get through this together? Didn't he know that Harry would keep being there for him even if it was just the two of them against the whole world?

Or, at least, Harry thought he would. Now, he's not so sure. Harry doesn't know if he can forgive Louis for everything he's done.

 _He was scared_ , Harry's voice of reason tells him. _Imagine if you were Louis. Wouldn't you try and take on the world too?_

"Shut up," Harry mumbles. "You're not helping."

 _He didn't want you to get caught in the crossfire. He wanted to protect you_.

"Stop it," Harry says a bit louder, as if that's going to make his conscience go away.

The voice goes away, but the damage is already done. Harry's torn between resentment and forgiveness. It's possible he's just as angry at himself as he is at Louis, because neither one of them handled this situation very well at all.

"It doesn't matter," Harry mutters. Louis already made his choice and he did it without Harry. Rugby was more important than everything else. In the back of his mind Harry always knew that, even if Louis didn't want to admit it.

Harry's just about to tuck himself back into bed and pull the covers over his head when the door to his room flies open and Joe, another rugby player, bursts in shouting Louis' name. He looks at Louis' bed first, seeing it empty and unslept in, and then looks over at Harry.

"Where's Louis?"

"How should I know?" Harry spits back at him.

"The team's all in the gymnasium. Louis' not there." Joe looks at Louis' bed again. "You sure you don't know where he is?"

"Piss off," Harry says, turning his back on Joe as he settles back down into bed.

Joe leaves a few seconds later, and Harry's alone again. Slowly but surely, he starts thinking about where Louis could possibly be. He'd assumed that Louis had gone to one of his teammates' rooms to bunk for the night. The finals are this evening, he wouldn't miss that.

Would he?

Ten minutes later, the door's thrown open again and this time it's the rugby coach along with Joe.

"See?" Joe says as the coach storms into the room. "I told you, he's not here."

"Where is he?" the coach demands, rounding on Harry.

"Don't know," Harry says, "and don't care."

"You don't--" The coach cuts himself off and huffs angrily. "Don't you know how important tonight's match is? How long it's been since we've been in the finals?!"

Harry stays quiet.

"You see Louis, you tell him to come straight to me. You understand?"

Harry still doesn't say anything.

The coach storms out of the room with Joe close behind, running off in such a huff that they don't even bother closing the door behind them. Harry pulls himself out of bed to slam it shut, grumbling to himself as he stomps back over to his bed.

"What do I care about some stupid rugby final?" he grumbles.

 _Louis cared about it_ , his conscience speaks up again. _If it's his team, shouldn't it be yours too?_

"Shut up," Harry says aloud to himself before he puts his pillow over his head. He must be going crazy if even his own conscience is taking Louis' side.

Fifteen minutes go by and then there's a sharp knock at the door. Harry ignores the first one, but it happens again and sounds more insistent than the first. Harry groans loudly as he rolls over and shouts _what_ to whoever's on the other side.

"It's Mr. Grimshaw, can I come in?"

Harry stares at the door for a few seconds before he answers. "Uhh… yeah?"

The door opens slowly and Mr. Grimshaw peeks his head inside. He looks at Louis' side before turning to Harry, carefully stepping through the doorway before he pushes it open.

"I, umm, assume you've heard."

"Heard what?" Harry asks.

"That your, umm," Mr. Grimshaw pauses and looks at Louis' bed, "your _roommate_ has gone missing."

"What d'you mean missing?" Harry blinks. "He can't be missing."

"In fact, he can be. Because he is." Mr. Grimshaw folds his hands together. "Have you seen him?"

"No," Harry says as he hangs his head. "Not since last night."

"Did he sleep here?" Mr. Grimshaw clears his throat. "His, uhh, his bed looks… very neat."

"No," Harry says again. "He left."

"He… left."

"Yeah, he left."

"Did he say where he was going?"

"No."

"Did you ask?"

"No, I didn't bloody ask!" Harry shouts, suddenly furious. "He left because I told him to go! I didn't want to be in the same building, let alone the same room as him!"

"Alright, alright," Mr. Grimshaw says calmly, holding his hands out in a non-threatening manner. He lets out a breath and then says, "I take it he didn't apologize?"

"Apologize--" Harry scoffs, then pauses. "How did you know that he needed to…?"

"He came to see me last night," Mr. Grimshaw says. "He, uhh, said he'd made a lot of mistakes. That he'd hurt you. He asked me how to fix it."

"Why you?" Harry asks, failing to keep the derision out of his voice.

Mr. Grimshaw chuckles and then groans uncomfortably. "We… uhh… share some things, he and I." He gestures to Harry. "And you, apparently, I… I gather."

Harry just stares at him, and Mr. Grimshaw shifts awkwardly from one foot to another. It's clear that this whole conversation is making him extremely uncomfortable and it seems like he's not getting to the whole point of him being here. Harry _thinks_ he knows why, but he can't quite believe it himself.

"Did he…" Harry swallows. "Did he tell you about… us?"

"He, well… he sort of did. Not in so many words…" Mr. Grimshaw pauses. "I think he more… _implied_ some things. He…" Mr. Grimshaw groans and presses his hand to his face as he mumbles, "this is going _so_ well."

"What did he tell you?"

At first, he's silent. Harry watches as Mr. Grimshaw grapples with what to say while his own mind is running a hundred miles a second. He's dying to know what Louis said about him, about both of them, and _why_.

"He told me how badly he'd screwed things up," Mr. Grimshaw says, giving Harry a sad smile. "But what he showed me is how desperately he wanted to make things right."

He steps forward, gesturing to the chair at Harry's desk and waiting for Harry to nod before he pulls it out and sits down.

"Obviously, I don't know the whole story. But if there's one thing I do know, it's how someone looks when they know they've made the biggest mistake of their life, and all they want is to fix it." Mr. Grimshaw chuckles softly. "Trust me, I've been there."

"What if you can't fix it?" Harry asks glumly. "What if there's nothing you can do?"

"Is that true?" Mr. Grimshaw hums softly when Harry doesn't answer. "I think there's always something you can do, even if you can't see it yet. Maybe it's not something you can do all on your own, but something you and whoever you've wronged have to do together."

"But I'm not--" Harry stops suddenly, uncertain of how he was going to finish his own sentence.

"You're not what?"

Harry hangs his head. "It's my fault too, isn't it?"

"It might be." Mr. Grimshaw shrugs. "Like I said, I don't know the whole story."

He gets up and pushes the chair back towards Harry's desk and heads for the door.

"Would you like me to let you know?" he asks, pausing at the door. "When we find him?"

"Yes, please," Harry answers in a small voice, not looking up.

Mr. Grimshaw closes the door behind him, and Harry waits until he doesn't hear any more footsteps before he climbs out of bed and gets dressed. If nobody else can find Louis, then maybe Harry can. He has an idea of where he might be.

*

Louis has been sitting here for hours. He watched the sun come up and in a few hours he'll inevitably watch the sunset as well. Louis doesn't know what he's going to do when it starts getting cold, but he's not going back to the school and he's _certainly_ not going to the rugby final.

He'll just figure something else out. Maybe he'll finally get on a train and get away from here.

Going back home certainly isn't an option. He'd have to explain everything to his mum and it was bad enough the year before. She doesn't need him screwing up anything more than he already has. It'd probably be best if he just stayed on his own.

He hears footsteps behind him but he doesn't turn around. Plenty of people have walked by him today without sparing a thought towards him. This beach is public property so he isn't trespassing, which means he doesn't have to worry about any police showing up to make him go somewhere else. The most he's got to worry about is if someone from the school actually figures out where he is and comes looking for him.

He doesn't expect to look to his left and see Harry sitting down beside him. Louis stares at him for a moment before he remembers himself, and then he looks back out at the water. He can still see Harry out of the corner of his eye, but Harry doesn't turn to look at him.

"So, here's where you've been all day," Harry says casually.

Louis clears his throat before softly replying, "yeah."

"They're looking for you back at school."

"Figured they would."

"I thought you were done running."

"Didn't see the point in staying." Louis draws a circle in the sand with his right hand and then erases it with one sweep.

"What about rugby?"

"What about it?"

"Wasn't it important to you?"

"No," Louis says, sighing heavily. "Stopped being important to me a long time ago."

"Then why'd you play?" Harry asks, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Louis shrugs. "I started playing because my stepdad liked it. It was something the two of us could do together. I just happened to be good at it. When he and my mum split, I kept playing because I… I wanted to keep something of his. Something to remind myself that he loved me."

Louis scoops up a handful of sand and tosses it out in front of them, grateful that the wind doesn't pick up at the same moment and blow it back in their faces.

"I wasn't planning on playing it again when I came to school here," he goes on. "But the headmaster decided it for me and since I was lucky to transfer here in the first place, I knew I couldn't say no."

"You could've," Harry says.

Louis scoffs out a laugh. "You've been going to that school longer than I have. Do _you_ think they would've taken no for an answer?"

Harry sighs and stretches his legs out in front of him, putting his hands together in his lap. Louis stays quiet. He doesn't know why Harry's here but he doesn't want to say anything that might scare him off or lead to another fight. He's tired of fighting.

"Why'd you go to Mr. Grimshaw last night?" Harry asks.

"I thought he could help me."

"Why?"

"C'mon, Harry." Louis sighs heavily and turns to look at him, and Harry finally makes eye contact. "You know why."

Harry looks away. Louis closes his eyes and tips his head back, pressing his palm to his forehead for a moment.

"Why'd you even come here?" he asks. "I thought you never wanted to see me again."

"I didn't say that," Harry says quietly.

"You might as well have," Louis replies, scoffing. "I thought you made it pretty clear last night that I was the last person you wanted to talk to."

"Yeah, well, things change, don't they?" Harry snaps.

"Okay, so what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know."

"Fucking hell, Harry," Louis says with a soft groan.

"I don't fucking know!" Harry shouts. "I don't know how to forgive you! You made a really stupid fucking mistake, alright? You didn't trust me enough to talk to me, and I don't know if it's because of something I did, or--"

"No, that's--" Louis shakes his head, "--that's not it at all, Harry."

"Then what was it?" Harry demands as tears spring to his eyes. "What was so bad that you decided I'd be better off if you weren't around?"

"I'm sorry," Louis pleads. "I'm so sorry, I was scared and I wasn't thinking. I didn't want to put you through any more bullshit because of rugby or the school, and I ended up doing so much worse." Louis tucks his head down against his knees and cries out in frustration. "You deserve so much better than that, Harry. You deserve better than me."

"Yeah, well." Harry laughs and sniffs loudly, rubbing the back of his hand across his eyes. "For some reason, I still want you."

Louis lifts up his head and looks at Harry. "Really?"

"I miss my best friend," Harry says, and his voice cracks.

In that moment, Louis is through with playing it safe. He hurls himself into Harry's arms, wrapping himself tightly around Harry and holding on for dear life. Harry clings to him and presses his face into Louis' shoulder, muffling another sob as Louis whispers _I'm so sorry_ over and over against his skin.

After a minute or two, they both loosen their grip. Louis puts his hands on either side of Harry's face and Harry's drop to Louis' hips. They press their foreheads together as they keep their eyes closed, concentrating on the sound of each other's breath.

"Can you forgive me?" Louis whispers.

"Yeah," Harry whispers back. "Just as long as you never fucking do it again."

"Promise," Louis says before he tilts his head and presses his lips to Harry's.

They sit together on the beach for a while, pressed as close as they can get without being on top of one another. Louis has every intention of staying there for as long as possible, but Harry has another idea.

"We should go back."

"Why?" Louis asks.

"You should play in the final," Harry says. Louis turns to look at him and Harry gives him a soft smile. "You worked hard. You deserve this."

"But you hate rugby." Louis laughs softly. "Why do you want me to go play a sport you hate?"

"It's your team," Harry says as he squeezes Louis' hand in his own, "and that makes it mine too."

Louis presses a kiss to Harry's forehead and takes a deep breath. Harry tilts his head back and seeks out Louis' mouth, and for a moment Louis thinks maybe they ought to forget the whole thing and just stay right where they are.

"C'mon," Harry murmurs, pulling away.

"Alright," Louis replies reluctantly. Harry gets to his feet and pulls Louis up along with him, but Louis keeps his feet firmly planted and a tight grip on Harry's hand when he starts to walk away.

"Lou?"

"Will you come with me?" Louis asks.

"To the match?"

"When I go meet the team," Louis clarifies. "I want them to know the real me, and I can't do that without you there, holding my hand." He squeezes Harry's hand tightly and gives him a small smile. "If the team can't accept me, then I don't want to play for them."

"Are you sure?" Harry asks, taking Louis' other hand in his own. "You want everyone to know?"

"Yeah," Louis says as he looks down at their hands and then back up at Harry. "I really do."

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://astorytotellyourfriends.tumblr.com)


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